


eunhae | 잘 지내나요 (take care)

by plincess_cho (ai_hao)



Series: 1+1=Love | Donghae x Eunhyuk [5]
Category: Super Junior
Genre: Cuddles, EunHae, FWP, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Gratutious fluff, non-au, or as i call it, soft fluffs per usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 19:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14362056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ai_hao/pseuds/plincess_cho
Summary: Hyukjae likes being taken care of, and Donghae's learning how to cook.





	eunhae | 잘 지내나요 (take care)

Hyukjae lies on the couch and debates ordering takeout for the third time that day. He’s starving, but he realizes that his phone is sitting on the counter in the kitchen. It’s not really that far away, but his ankle is throbbing more than usual. He sighs.

They’re supposed to leave for South America in just a few days, but it still hurts to dance for an extended period of time. He knows he’ll probably just pop way too many painkillers before the show and dunk his foot into a bucket of ice after but…

But he’s getting older, and injuries don’t heal themselves like they used to. In the old days, they all could run for eons without getting tired or slowing down, but now, they take more breaks and need more time to recover. Hyukjae knows this intimately. They really should contract a masseuse to assuage their after-show aches.

He fumbles for the remote and aimlessly clicks through channels on the television. There’s a rerun of _SuperTV_ on that he watches for a few minutes. He’s been an idol for nearly thirteen years, but seeing himself on TV still leaves him awestruck. He’s made it. They’ve made it.

And even though his body hurts, he wouldn’t trade this life for the world.

He sits up as he hears someone punching in the code for the lock on his apartment door. The door opens and shuts, and he hears the sound of slippers padding across the hardwood floors.

And then, there’s Donghae, standing in the foyer with a bag full of who knows what and his guitar slung over his shoulder looking like something out of a cheesy drama.

“What are you doing here?” Hyukjae asks, but it’s not really a question. Donghae comes over more often than not, so it’s really not that unusual. Somedays, Hyukjae even comes home from schedules to find Donghae lounging on his couch because it’s supposedly more comfortable than his own.

 _“Why did you tell them you have my house passcode?”_ Hyukjae had squawked after the _SuperTV_ filming. _“Now they fans will think we live together!”_

 _“You guys practically_ do _live together,”_ Leeteuk had remarked. _“I don’t even know why Donghae has his own apartment. He’s at my place all the time when he’s not at yours.”_

Hyukjae smiles at the memory. Donghae had just sat there looking innocent in the way that only Lee Donghae could. He is probably the only member who has the passcodes to everyone’s apartments. When they’d moved out of the dorms, Donghae had been the most distraught. _“I like being around you guys,”_ he’d said.

Donghae holds up the bag. “I brought dinner,” he says simply. “And medicine.” He pulls a bottle of ibuprofen out of the bag and tosses it to Hyukjae. A bag of frozen peas follows. “For your ankle.”

Hyukjae brightens substantially. He positions his ankle on top of a pillow and carefully positions the peas around it. “Ah!” he winces as the bag comes in contact with his skin. “Throw me a dish towel,” he calls to Donghae. A towel comes flying over, and Hyukjae wraps the bag before repositioning it on his ankle. The coolness is soothing.

He looks over to see Donghae unpacking the bag onto the kitchen counter. From what Hyukjae can see, he’s got a bottle of something, a bag of something, a green something, and a carton of something. “Are you… cooking?” he asks, mildly incredulous.

“Ddeokbokki,” he replies.

“From scratch?” Hyukjae asks, sitting up for a better view of the kitchen. “Isn’t that hard?”

Donghae just shrugs. [“I wanted to try.”](https://www.maangchi.com/recipe/tteokbokki)

Hyukjae watches as he rummages through the cabinets for the items he needs. Eventually, he should probably learn to cook, but as of right now, he doesn’t feel the need to. They either get fed during filming or he’ll go out with friends, and when he’s home, he’ll just order takeout or make himself ramen. That’s cooking, right?

Hyukjae leans back against the couch, careful not to disturb the bag of frozen peas on his ankle, and watches Donghae in the kitchen. He’s chopping up the green onions now, and Hyukjae can’t help but think how… how comfortable this all is. Donghae in the kitchen, fixing dinner that they’ll eat together. Afterwards, they’ll probably watch TV or play cards or something equally as…

Domestic.

It’s nice.

He hears the stove click on as Donghae sets a pan over the heat. His stomach growls audibly, and he’s secretly glad that he won’t have to fuss with waiting for delivery. Hyukjae watches as Donghae pours what looks to be stock into the pan and then adds some red paste, rice cakes, and green onions.

Thus far, Hyukjae has really been trying to downplay the severity of his injuries. He thinks that if he doesn’t really talk about it or focus on it, his injury will magically disappear. Unfortunately, that hasn’t been the case, and now that Donghae’s here, well…

“I’m thirsty,” Hyukjae announces. “Can you get me some water?”

A water bottle is thrown in his direction, and Hyukjae is glad that he knows how to catch. It’s not the same as his mother holding the cup to his lips (even though he’s perfectly capable of doing it himself), but it’s nice to be taken care of just the same.

By the time Donghae calls him over to the table, Hyukjae’s stomach is grumbling so loudly that he’s sure Donghae can hear it. He gingerly sits up and tests out the ankle. It doesn’t feel great, but it does feel better than it did before the frozen peas. He hops over to the table and sits down, while Donghae places the steaming pan of ddeokbokki on a hot pad in front of him. He sits down, and they both start to eat.

“You know,” Hyukjae says through a mouthful of rice cakes, “this is really good.”

Donghae gives a satisfied hum in reply.

“You should quit Super Junior and work as a food stall ahjumma.”

Donghae snorts mid-chew, and the sauce must have gone straight into his nasal cavity as a result. He drops his chopsticks and holds his nose, exclaiming loudly. Hyukjae starts to laugh, and Donghae glares at him before starting to laugh as well.

“But if I quit, who will do D&E activities with you?”

Hyukjae shrugs. “I’ll do them by myself. I can be both the D and the E.”

Donghae just rolls his eyes.

Hyukjae can hardly believe that they started D&E seven years ago. What had started as somewhat of a joke between them had turned into something truly wonderful. Just he and Donghae, touring the world. The company had been so wary of letting them start their own subunit, and their first song and video had been largely self-produced. It had been thrilling when “Oppa, Oppa” had done so well, much to the embarrassment of the execs who then began to grudgingly approve more and more activities for the two of them.

That had been one of the many victories they’d won against the company over the years, and Hyukjae is incredibly grateful.

He’s always grateful for Donghae.

They finish eating, and Donghae dumps everything in or near the sink. Hyukjae tries not to grouse about it, since after all, Donghae did make him dinner. He hobbles back over to the couch and sets the now-hardly frozen peas back on his ankle. Donghae plops himself down on the floor and pulls out his guitar to tune.

Hyukjae lies back on the couch and closes his eyes as Donghae starts to strum gently. How many times and in how many different countries had they sat just like this, with Donghae playing music and Hyukjae thinking about life and love and everything in between?

As of this year, Hyukjae has spent half his life with Donghae. They’d met as kids in the SM building eons ago, and now, Donghae feels more like his family than even his own sister and parents. At the beginning of it all, Hyukjae had always immediately called his parents with any good news, and now…

And now he calls Donghae.

And Donghae calls him.

Hyukjae doesn’t realize that he’s nearly fallen asleep to the sound of the guitar and Donghae’s soft, murmured singing until the couch shifts as Donghae gets up from the floor. Hyukjae opens his eyes and looks up to see Donghae with a grin playing on the edges of his mouth.

“You’re tired, I should go.”

Hyukjae hurriedly sits up and shakes his head. The bag of peas falls to the floor, but he ignores it. “No, I’m fine.”

Donghae just laughs and nudges Hyukjae over on the couch so there’s room for both of them to sit down. Usually it’s the opposite: Donghae is the one falling asleep on Hyukjae’s shoulder during a movie, and Hyukjae is the one to poke him awake at the end.

Hyukjae leans against Donghae and sets his ankle up on the coffee table. He hopes it’ll be healed enough by the time that they leave, but there’s no guarantee. The painkillers have finally kicked in, and the throbbing has subsided.

Donghae is warm, and Hyukjae really is sleepy, despite what he had told Donghae. Donghae picks up the remote and starts clicking through Netflix, the account that they share. Or more accurately, the one that Hyukjae pays for that Donghae has the password too. Hyukjae has always said that he spends all of his money on Donghae, but he’s fine with it. It’s just money, after all. He’d rather have Donghae.

Donghae chooses some food show that focuses on foods in Chile, and Hyukjae’s just glad that they’ve already eaten. He hopes they’ll be able to try more of the food this time.

It’s been five years since they’ve been to South America, and so much has changed in that time. The last time, he’d been the stand-in leader, trying his hardest to keep everyone together while Leeteuk had been enlisted. Yesung and Heechul had been enlisted as well, and Kangin had been the only one so far to have come home. Now… now they’ve all been, the last two are currently serving, and Kangin, well… Henry and Zhou Mi aren’t with them either, and Super Show 7 has a completely different feel than Super Show 5.

Super Show 7. _Seven._

Another thing that hadn’t been meant to last more than a few months. And yet…

And yet like everything, they had endured and created something more beautiful than anyone had ever imagined. Hyukjae sometimes wonders if Teuk had realized what he would create the day he introduced them in the SM cafeteria all those years ago.

[ _“Hi, I’m Hyukjae.”_ ](http://skulltoki.tumblr.com/post/108645837996/shirade-eunhaes-first-meeting-donghae-hi)

[ _“Hi, I’m Donghae.”_ ](http://skulltoki.tumblr.com/post/108645837996/shirade-eunhaes-first-meeting-donghae-hi)

[ _“Cool, let’s be friends!”_ ](http://skulltoki.tumblr.com/post/108645837996/shirade-eunhaes-first-meeting-donghae-hi)

They’d been skinny and awkward and completely made for each other, even back then. They’d clicked in the beginning, but nobody had known the spark back then would set the world on fire.

Donghae shifts positions, and Hyukjae waits patiently for him to find a comfortable spot before settling back against him. It’s cheesy, he knows, but there are no cameras to intrude and no members to splash water on them.

He falls asleep halfway through the television host’s discussion of empanadas, and when he wakes up in the middle of the night, he finds himself nestled up against Donghae’s side, a blanket haphazardly covering both of them. They just barely fit on the couch, but Hyukjae doesn’t mind. Donghae’s breathing is deep and even, and he doesn’t even stir when Hyukjae wakes. So Hyukjae simply tucks himself back in and closes his eyes, falling back asleep almost instantly.

After all, it’s easy to fall asleep knowing that you’re so utterly and completely loved.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments are love ♡
> 
> [twitter](twitter.com/plincess_cho) // [tumblr](plincess-cho.tumblr.com)
> 
> The recipe is from Maangchi, linked [here.](https://www.maangchi.com/recipe/tteokbokki)


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